darkfrost

Hiccup shivered with a soft chill running down his back. The air was cold. Freezing, bone chilling, like ice shatters against your skin as if a thousand needles were pressing against him. Hiccup wrapped his arms around himself his cheeks and freckles a soft red against his cheeks as she emerald hues scanned the area. He had fallen asleep against the tree as a snow blizzard hit. Biting down hard on his bottom lip he shook his head. Jack wouldn’t do this to Berk…

Ezekiel wandered into the middle of a mountain pass. The snow was fresh, the ice thick in some places, and stones stuck out defiantly to let their presence be known. The morning sun did nothing to help alleviate the freezing cold. His jacket barely kept him warm, his gloves were already wet, and the iron blade in his pocket was as cold as the most wretched ice.

He wanted to speak to Jack Frost today. He heard of him allying himself with Pitch Black, a thorn in his side for many centuries, and he was not going to let this little ploy escape him. Pitch couldn’t honestly change the balance in his favor. Humanity was strong and they would fight. A little snow here and there was not enough to make them descend into madness and fear. He was ready to stop Jack, even if that meant…

But he wanted to be proven wrong. He hoped that he could convince Jack of what he’s done wrong, that he could still be redeemed, that things could be very different if he just changed.

Today was a trial and he was going to have to be judge, jury, and (if needs be) executioner.

This Ridgeback pulled his Imperial mate straight out of an Emperor - You won’t believe what happens next

It has been reported that local Ridgeback Kereth brought back his mate not just from the dead - but from an emperor. A shade-controlled Emperor.

What happened to the rest of the emperor is yet unknown. Similarly, there are no informations yet as to whether he worked with or against the Shade in this, or how he even did it. Unsurprisingly, he hasn’t spoken a word about it. Either way, the Shade has not yet filed a report of larceny.

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The revived Imperial appears to be in shock and is not approachable at the moment. It is not apparent whether or not he is shade-controlled, and his current location will be withheld for everyone’s safety.

Okay, but like. What the fuck. This is like the twelfth weird thing to happen here this week. Not sure if it has something to do with the Shade literally walking around the lair and talking to dragons and shit. Who even does that. Who even lives here. What the fuck,

It was as the tears started that she closed her side of the soul link she shared with Johern, a habit she needed to stop, likely by asking Joh to simply take away her ability to close said link at all.

Clad only in a robe she favoured in spring, the druid sat on the lip of a park fountain as night allowed its signature moon to be hidden in clouds. Snow, a periodic occurrence in Stormwind winters, began lethargically falling from the sky, no breeze about to aid or hinder its coming. In response to the cold, she only curled tighter on herself, buried her face a little deeper in her knees, listened to her own sobs bounce sharply off the surrounding stonework of one of the park’s wall fountains.

“You did it again,” a voice stated, both haunting in its clarity and nearly inaudible in the fact that it didn’t exist. “You hoped.”

And it was right. She had hoped. And again, she had messed up. Maybe it was time to stop trying, just as the same voice had told her before.

The previous night–her cheer, his smile–it may as well not have happened, what for how her whimpers bounced back at her in what rapidly became a snowscape. Her sobs didn’t mind the ribs he broke, continuing as though no pain assaulted her externally. Only internally. Briefly did her thoughts flicker back to the blade she kept in her pouch, the one she desperately needed to get rid of if only to prevent stupidity in such moments.

“Add him to the list, you stupid girl,” that traitorous voice whispered in her ears. “What’s the list now?”

Reluctantly, she lifted her head from her arms and looked out towards the harbour. Towards the memorial she accidentally disrespected. “Arias, Marogthor, Renaul’, Jordan, Rai,” she murmured into the night, barely able to stifle her tears well enough to speak.

The voice didn’t reply, didn’t deem her worthy of further harassment for the time being. Instead, it allowed her to simply lose her composure once again, burying her face in her arms, folded over her knees. As the night continued and the temperature still dropped, she stopped noticing her own shivering, barely able to stay awake past her exhaustion from crying and the agony in her ribs.

“Do you think it was his time?” the voice asked just as she thought she’d found peace.

Images and sensations, unbidden, raced through her mind. Hulking, black creatures, shining in the meager light of the place. The rumbles as they walked around, the inbetween’s guardians, wardens, and executioners. The fear that always gripped her heart. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Stop it,” Blythe growled, nearly returning to tears just at the thought of the place, her weak heart racing in her chest. “If’n i’ wasn’t, there’s nothin’ I can do.”

A smile in the back of her mind was the voice’s only response, and her thoughts flickered back to the blade. No. But that voice of reason, the voice of refusal, quieted as the cold settled into her bones. Thankfully, the chill negated the need for such a voice, numbing her mind and forcing her eyes shut as it sapped the last of her energy.

And there, in the dark, snowy Stormwind night, Blythe fell asleep perched on the rim of a wall fountain, her body too cold to shiver as snow settled on her hair and shoulders.